


it's always the little things

by swanfrost



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, hijigin if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5511950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanfrost/pseuds/swanfrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gintoki kind of really hates writing Christmas Cards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's always the little things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rose_selavy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_selavy/gifts).



> Written for the gintama secret santa on tumblr! This is my gift to the lovely rose-selavy.

"Do I _have_ to?" Gintoki complains, groaning as his head thuds against the wooden desk.

"Yes," Shinpachi replies firmly, shoving a stack of cards into Gintoki's face. "You _promised_."

Gintoki does remember promising. He also remembers the sickly sweet smell of sake and a pounding headache.

"I was drunk-"

"No ifs, ands, or buts!" Shinpachi places a pen on top of the cards, exasperation lacing his words. "Besides, I'm sure everyone will appreciate the gesture, after all the trouble we've caused."

Behind them, Kagura nods in agreement. "Gin-chan," she declares solemnly, "This is your chance to prove you're not a good-for-nothing bum that doesn't do anything but drink strawberry milk and eat parfaits and also sleep all the time. See, even Sadaharu is helping out!"

Barking excitedly, the dog thumps his tail against the hardwood floors. Blearily, Gintoki lifts his head to see red ink dripping from one of Sadaharu's massive paws, a pile of paw-printed cards scattered around the couches.

"Good for him," he mutters, head drooping again. "Try not to get ink poisoning. Gin-san doesn't have the will or the money to send him to the vet."

Oblivious to, or simply ignoring, Gintoki's grumblings, Shinpachi begins to fill out his own cards. The Yorozuya fall into an easy (or in Gintoki's case, painful) silence, filled only by the scritch-scratching of pens and the occasional yip from Sadaharu.

Suddenly, the shrill ringing of a phone cuts sharply into the silence, startling Gintoki out of his dazed slumber. Ignoring Shinpachi's soft _tsk_ of annoyance, he jumps up and reaches for the phone, grinning.

"Hello! You've reached the Yorozuya! Yes, yes, of course. I'll be right there."

Shinpachi says, "The cards will still be here when you get back," but Gintoki is already out the door, waving a halfhearted goodbye to the two children. Kagura sticks her tongue out at his back as he leaves.

-/-

Stepping into a small bakery, Gintoki greets the man who approaches him. Distress creases into thin worry lines on the man's forehead; he tell Gintoki that he needs to complete fifty cakes by the end of the week and his workers have all taken off for the holiday break. Gintoki contemplates the fact that _he_ should be closing shop for the holidays too – Christmas is only five days away – but the baker promises to pay him upfront and in cash, along with offering a free cake at the end of it all, and Gintoki acquiesces.

"It would be great if you could start today," Moriyama, the baker, says, clearly stressed. He's been wringing his hands and sweating buckets, but Gintoki is feeling overwhelmingly lazy, so he shakes his head and tries for an "I'm-sorry-but-I-can't-really-help-it" look.

"I'll come by tomorrow," he promises, and escapes out the door before the baker can say another word.

"At least I'm not writing those damn cards," Gintok tells himself, feeling only a little bit guilty for leaving so abruptly. Seriously, anything would be better than writing pleasantries to people who wouldn't even care. After all, Gintoki knows that true gratitude can't be expressed in mere words. (It's not because he's lazy, he swears!) As he is softly bemoaning the complications of social etiquette – _when I was a kid, nothing was ever this difficult_ – his missteps and collides face-first into a large body.

A flash of anger crosses Gintoki's face, and he snaps, "Oi, asshole, watch where you're going! What kind of person just steps into someone else's path? What kind of barbarian are you? Were you never graced with – "

" _Will you shut the fuck up?"_

Slightly shocked and more than a little ruffled, Gintoki steps back to takes a closer look at his assailant – and a puff of cigarette smoke clouds his vision, making him cough. When he's waved away the smoke and the person comes into view, Gintoki can only sigh.

Hijikata snarls at him, irritation plastered all over his face. Taking an angry puff of his cigarette, he readjusts the plastic shopping bags hanging from his arms. "What is your problem?" the policeman snaps.

Curious, Gintoki's eyes flicker downward, glancing over the shopping bags and the rectangular packages poking out. When he recognizes the sprawling Hallbark brand and catches sight of bright red envelopes, he groans.

"Not you too," Gintoki says, "Can't I go _anywhere_ without these damn cards being shoved into my face? Oh my god, don't tell me, is _the_ Hijikata actually writing Christmas cards? Huh? Do you actually have any friends to write them for? It's pretty sad if you're only able to give them to your coworkers. What would you even write? 'Merry Christmas, now go commit seppuku'? It's not like anyone actually cares – "

"That sounds like a personal problem," Hijikata brazenly cuts in, having tuned the other man out after the first three words. "Go talk to your brats about it or something. Quit bothering _me_."

Sidestepping Gintoki, Hijikata rolls his eyes and blows out a soft stream of smokebefore continuing onwards, intent on ignoring Gintoki for possibly the rest of his life. He doesn't look back, expecting the incident to be done and over with.

"Hey," Gintoki suddenly calls, louder than he'd intended to. A passing woman turns her head toward him curiously. Stopped mid-step, Hijikata turns around, an annoyed retort already forming on his lips.

"Hey," Gintoki repeats, wondering what exactly he was trying to accomplish. "If you're writing cards, I expect one too, you know."

Hijikata turns around completely.

"Do you even know how many things the Yorozuya has done for you guys? Hell, you haven't even paid us _once_. Do you know how long ago the Shinsengumi Crisis arc was? Did I ever get payment for that? No."

Pointing an accusing finger at Hijikata, Gintoki glowers at him; Hijikata is wearing an expression that is halfway between annoyed, and confused. Sweat begins to bead inconspicuously on Gintoki's forehead; either he is incredibly bored or incredibly stupid. Both seem like possibilities.

"Be a responsible adult for once," he adds, and then hurriedly turns on his heel and flees, leaving Hijikata to stare at the dust he leaves behind.

-/-

When Gintoki returns home, pushing the door open with a heavy sigh, Shinpachi is waiting for him with an expectant smile.

"Did you get us a job at least?" the boy asks.

Gintoki huffs at him. "Of course, what do you take me for?" Giving Sadaharu an absent-minded pat on the head, he sighs, again, as he slumps into his seat.

He tells Shinpachi and Kagura the details of the job, mentioning that they would start the next day. Upon hearing that they would be working in a kitchen, Shinpachi's eyebrows creased in worry, no doubt imagining the potential damage to be caused.

"Shinpachi, if you keep frowning like that, you're going to get wrinkles before you're twenty," Gintoki snarks. The boy throws him an exasperated look, even as Kagura nods in agreement.

"Gin-san, you look worried too," Shinpachi says, expertly changing the topic. "Although I suppose for completely different reasons. Did something happen?"

Briefly, Gintoki considers narrating his harrowing encounter, but decides against it. Too many words, too little energy. "It's nothing really," he ends up saying, "I just really don't want to write these cards."

With a roll of his eyes, Shinpachi turns away, shaking his head hopelessly.

-/-

The next day finds the Yorozuya trio in a flour-filled kitchen with a panicking chef. Having pulled out lists of recipes and piles of ingredients, he sets them to work, but only after Gintoki has pocketed the payment.

"If we do this well," he solemnly tells the kids, "We get cake. So do it well."

"Yes, Gin-san," Shinpachi and Kagura reply obediently, although amusement underlies their words. Gintoki scowls at their sassiness.

When he's manning the cash register, wistfully looking at the line of deserts displayed on the counter, a trio of burly men pushes through the door. The soft jingle of bells drags Gintoki out of his stupor, and he isn't paying attention – when he finally looks up after droning the standard "hello, welcome to Edo Bakery, how may I help you", a dark shadow is looming over him, blocking his field of vision.

Gintoki yelps. He's definitely awake now.

"Is the manager in?" the man asks, irritation flickering in his eyes. His lips are drawn upwards into a sneer, and Gintoki thinks he see the subtle outline of a gun hidden in the man's jacket. Nervously, he eyes the man's broad shoulders and thick arms.

"Y-yeah, one moment," he manages to say, then runs toward the kitchen, where Moriyama is busy instructing Shinpachi and Kagura how to properly mix ingredients for a custom order. When Gintoki bursts in, the chef looks up in surprise.

"There's a bunch of people outside," Gintoki explains, "They're calling for you."

At once, the chef's expression twists; he wipes his hands on his apron and pushes past Gintoki, instructing them to stay in the kitchen. Of course, the moment he steps out the door, the Yorozuya tiptoe forward and peek out behind the windows.

The confrontation is brief, and nothing is destroyed. In less than five minutes, the men turn around and leave; Moriyama seems to breathe a sigh of relief. Still, there is a sense of risk that lingers in the air, and it makes Gintoki wince.

"Uh-oh," Shinpachi, who has grown quite good at detecting danger, mutters. Kagura nods in agreement.

"What should we do?" she asks, hopping down from the stool she'd been standing on. Hurrying back to their workstations, Gintoki manages to shrug before the chef pushes open the door, smiling a strained smile.

The question is on the tip of their tongues, but Moriyama waves away any concerns. "Nothing's wrong," he assures the three, Gintoki most especially. "Just a dissatisfied customer."

Gintoki can hear the lie, but he says nothing. Picking up the cue, Shinpachi and Kagura smile comfortingly at their employer; the rest of the day falls into a calm monotone of mixing flour and rolling dough.

When the day ends, the chef waves the trio goodbye, pressing small candies into Shinpachi's and Kagura's hands.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" he calls, "Thank you for working hard today!"

Gintoki would formulate a proper response, but he's too busy coaxing Kagura to give him just a piece or two, pretty please, come on, have some pity on poor Gin-san.

-/-

That evening, after Shinpachi has left for home and Kagura is snoozing away on Sadaharu's belly, Gintoki slips outside for a breath of fresh air.

He doesn't really have a destination in mind, not even intending to drop by a bar for a drink or two. Even when he passes by the supermarket, a row of strawberry milk catching his eyes and his newly-replenished wallet burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't stop. Instead, Gintoki readjusts his scarf and kicks at the snow piled on the sides of the road, watching as his breath forms foggy clouds in the chilly December air.

"A lone swordsman, wandering about at night? It's like you're asking for trouble."

At first, Gintoki is apprehensive and alert, but when he processes the familiar rough voice, his shoulders slump in relaxation.

"Ah, Hijikata-san, that's cruel of you. I'll have you know I haven't blown anything up in weeks."

The policeman snorts, stepping out of the shadows. Smoke drifts upward from the cigarette hanging from his mouth. Turning, Gintoki faces the other man, a small smile curling up his lips. For a brief moment, their eyes meet, but Hijikata quickly flicks his gaze away, tapping ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"Yeah, and you'd better stay out of trouble. I'd hate to arrest someone so close to Christmas." A wry smile accompanies his words, and something dark flickers in Hijikata's eyes, but Gintoki ignores it.

"Just wanted to warn you about something," Hijikata continues, as if nothing had happened. Gintoki turns a questioning gaze toward him.

"There've been reports of a terrorist threat targeting the area where the Yorozuya is stationed; we don't know any details but there's been some propaganda flying around." Here, Hijikata pauses, lip curling. "If it's that Katsura bastard, tell him to knock it off-"

"Hell if I know," Gintoki interrupts, scratching at his head, "But Zura wouldn't do something like that without purpose."

He might be wrong, but Hijikata doesn't need to know that.

Scowling, Hijikata says, "Well, whatever. Just stay alert," and quickly turns around, as if to leave. Gintoki can't see his face anymore, but Hijikata's hands are balled into fists – is he _nervous_ about something?

"….And just why are you telling me this?" Gintoki asks, truly curious. "Since when did you ever care?"

Silence stretches through the air before Hijikata gruffly replies, "Kondo-san told me to."

(Kondo did not tell Hijikata to do anything of the sort, but Gintoki doesn't need to know that.)

-/-

The next two days are uneventful. Gintoki drags himself out of bed and to the bakery, watching with satisfaction as his wallet looks a little fatter at the end of each day. Shinpachi and Kagura play around in the kitchen; Shinpachi has picked out an easy recipe that he'd like to learn for future use, and Kagura is having the time of her life eating sweets.

Gintoki spots the strange men hovering about the outsides of the stop, but they do not enter. They do not bother anybody, and he quickly forgets about them in favor of serving the other customers that walk through the doors.

By the end of the third day, thirty cakes of varying types and sizes have been made, and Moriyama's stress levels plummet with every order completed. He's so happy that he slips a little extra cash into Gintoki's hands, and gives the children an entire bag of leftover deserts before waving them goodbye.

"Gin-san," Shinpachi says as they're walking home, "We really should deliver our Christmas cards soon."

At this, the man makes a childish face. "Ugh," is his only reply, but when Kagura mentions giving a present to Soyo-chan, he relents.

"Fine," Gintoki grumbles, "We should start tonight, I guess."

It takes the entire evening to romp around Kabuki-chou, visiting friends and acquaintances. By the end of it all, the only cards that hadn't been delivered were Katsura's, Soyo's, and –

"The Shinsengumi?" Gintoki asks, jabbing at the Hallbark card addressed to the aforementioned Shinsengumi. "Why would we want to give something to the Shinsengumi?"

Throwing Gintoki a curious glance, Shinpachi shrugs. "Well, they're our friends, aren't they? And we've been through a lot together. I thought that warranted a card at least. Besides, I only wrote one for the whole Shinsengumi. It's not like we're giving Kondo-san, HIjikata-san, and Sougo-san separate cards."

"We should just get Toshi some mayonnaise" Kagura says, nodding as if she'd just uncovered the mysteries of the universe. "Obviously Gorilla would get bananas."

"What about Sougo?"

"Coal, duh," she replies. "We could also plant a bomb in his room and pretend that it's a present. I'm sure he'd love it."

"Kagura," Gintoki says, feeling as if it was his duty as a mentor and a father figure to step in, "We haven't destroyed or blown up anything in three weeks. It's a record. Let's keep it, ok?"

The girl pouts, but falls into silence. With a chuckle, Gintoki reaches over and pats her head affectionately.

Gintoki is about to open his mouth and suggest heading home for some hot chocolate when an earth-shattering explosion shatters the calm, night air.

-/-

He can feel uneven pulses of heat and strong gusts of wind billowing in from behind him, and in unison, the Yorozuya slowly turn around as another explosion sends tremors through the city.

"It's not our fault this time," is all Gintoki manages to say before he's placing a firm hand on both Shinpachi and Kagura's backs and pushing them forward. They stumble before catching their footing, starting into a run, and in the back of Gintoki's mind is Hijikata's crude warning.

 _What a big help that was_ , he thinks, and he's not paying attention, so it's a surprise when Shinpachi suddenly skids to a stop.

"Gin-san," the boy says, apprehensively, and Gintoki's eyes flicker forward before he spots the obstacle in their path.

"Hey," Kagura says, hands on her hips, "Aren't those the weirdos who came into the shop two days ago?"

Upon closer inspection, Gintoki identifies three large figures, strapped in armor and armed with swords and rifles. Although masks cover their faces, Gintoki can tell from their body shapes and their confident swagger that they're the three men who had stormed into Edo Bakery. Gintoki groans.

"I just wanted cake," he whines as the guns go _click_.

(In the end, Kagura lets out a battle cry and Gintoki resignedly draws his sword. The Yorozuya's three-week record is wiped clean.)

-/-

The sirens seem to cut through the crackling smoke, and Gintoki slumps against a wooden beam, sliding down to the ground with a wide yawn. In the hustle and bustle of the post-fighting mess, he doesn't hear the footsteps until the man is right behind him, sword clinking softly.

"It really wasn't me this time," Gintoki says wearily. Hijikata snorts.

"Don't worry, I believe you. Kinda hard not to when we've got the culprits in handcuffs and behind bars."

"Good, because, it would suck to be in jail so close to Christmas, you know? I've got two kids and a dog to take care of."

Hijikata is strangely silent, to the point where Gintoki tips his head back to make sure the man is still alive and breathing. With a dark glower and cigarette smoke curling toward the ash-filled sky, Hijikata looks particularly threatening, but Gintoki cannot feel any sort of murderous aura. He turns partially, about to ask what's wrong, when Hijikata slips his hand into his pocket and lets something drop in Gintoki's lap.

"For you," he says gruffly, not quite meeting Gintoki's eyes. The white-haired man raises an eyebrow and a smirk begins to form on his lips – he can't help it.

"For me?" Gintoki coos, picking up the card. Simple script is scrawled across the surface: _To: Yorozuya, From: Hijikata Toshiro_. "Isn't that sweet! I can't believe you took my request seriously."

"It's for the brats too!" Hijikata barks, and maybe it's a trick of the light, but Gintoki swears there's a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Gintoki laughs, even as Hijikata scoffs angrily. "What a coincidence," he says, reaching into his own pocket. The card he pulls out is dusty and slightly singed, but hey – at least it's still in one piece.

He hands Hijikata the card, snickering when the other man takes it. "In my defense," he says, when Hijikata prods at the blackened edges, "I was dodging bullets."

Hijikata snorts but accepts the card anyways, muttering a soft "thanks" underneath his breath. They stay like that for a few moments, an odd yet welcoming silence setting between them; but Hijikata fidgets and says, "I should be going back now," and Gintoki lazily waves goodbye as Hijikata picks his way out of the rubble.

When everything is silent again, Gintoki sighs and leans on the wooden beam again, closing his eyes. "What a pain," he says, but he's smiling, and when Shinpachi and Kagura come bounding over, ready to go home, he's still grinning like a fool.

"Why're you smiling, Gin-chan?" Kagura asks as she helps him stand.

Gintoki can only shrug in response. "Dunno," he says. "Christmas cards might not be so bad after all."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave a comment or kudos on your way out!


End file.
